


Staring at the Ceiling in the Dark

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, M/M, Set Whenever You Want, hotel room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark and Fernando have both been lying to each other for some time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staring at the Ceiling in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, it happened again :P  
> The title comes from the lyrics of 'Let Her Go' by Passenger. I do not own this song or any of its rights.  
> This fic can be set whenever you want.  
> Hope you enjoy : )

“Thanks for letting me crash here, mate,” Mark sighs, running a hand through his hair. Fernando smiles politely as he locks the hotel room for the night, placing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the other side of the door. He didn’t want Andrea or Stefano coming in in the morning and getting the wrong idea. 

“Is ok. Said you could come anytime,” The Spaniard crosses the room and collects the extra pillows he threw on the floor earlier. He hands them to Mark across the bed. 

“Not sure you wanted to be woken up at four in the morning though,” Mark sighs, accepting the first pillow.

“You did not know she would throw you out.” Fernando said in a sympathetic voice. Mark nodded and sat himself in the armchair he would be occupying tonight. He hugged the pillow close to his chest. 

“I didn’t think she would, no…” Mark wasn’t looking at Fernando and the Spaniard fiddled with the corners of the pillow awkwardly. He isn’t really sure what he is supposed to say next. Mark stares at the floor, his eyes glazing over. 

“But if you were not happy then was right to leave.” Fernando tries. Mark looks up at him and he continues. “Like with me. Was not happy with Dasha. Wanted to be able to focus solely on my racing. Head down, foot to the floor. She understood this I think. And who knows, maybe when am older, retired, I might find her again. Or someone else. Whatever is meant to happen will.” Fernando smiles. Mark shakes his head slightly, looking back to the floor. Fernando puts the second pillow down on the edge of the bed and kneels up on the mattress, still watching Mark. “Who knows, maybe this is why you wanted to leave Annie.”

Oh, if only you knew. Mark thinks as he watches Fernando climb into bed and lay down with his back to him. He’s glad when his friend doesn’t ask him to confirm. Mark knows exactly why he broke up with Annie. He knows exactly why he said the things to her that made her kick him out. He knows exactly why he has ended up here in Fernando’s room. Something constantly pulls him back to the Spaniard. He can’t shake it or understand it. But he is sick and tired of the confusion and now he wants to explore it. He just hopes Fernando can be a little lenient on his ‘Head down, foot to the floor’ attitude. Or at least willing to take Mark along for the ride. Mark tucks the pillow behind his head and tries to find a confortable position. Fernando looks over at him, amused, at the third time of thumping the pillow and trying to mould it to the chair. 

“What are you doing?” Fernando smiles, turning over his shoulder in his confortable, warm position in the bed. Mark huffs.

“Trying to get comfortable. Not easy with all this extra limb length.”

“Why?” Fernando’s comment makes Mark frown over at him. He is sure the intention was to sleep here. There is nothing more he is hoping for. Well, no, that’s a lie. There is a lot more that Mark hopes for from Fernando. It’s suddenly clear of Fernando’s implication from his question: he’s offering Mark the other side of the bed. Mark stands awkwardly. 

“Erm… I was making a bed?” He says dubiously. Fernando gives a breathy laugh in response.

“You think I will make you curl on the small chair with all your extra limb length?” Fernando smiles. It makes Mark blush. 

“Suppose not.” Mark says, moving sheepishly towards the bed. Fernando rolls over so he is facing him and throws the duvet back. There’s no implication for anything else than a decent nights sleep in Fernando’s actions. He’s just helping Mark out, being a friend. Until this moment Mark had not considered that Fernando might not feel like he does. The thought sends more heat through Mark’s body as he shies away from the bed. Fernando’s smile falls off his face. 

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing, mate. I’m really fine on the chair.”

“Do not be stupid. This is silly. There is plenty of room for both of us here.” Fernando patted the mattress beside him and Mark sighs again, relenting. The mattress creaks a little as he sits on it and swings his legs up. Fernando smiles at him as he gets into a confortable position. “See? Much easier and quicker to get comfortable in here.”

“Less amusing for you though.” Mark tries to joke but his voice doesn’t cooperate, showing the awkwardness he is feeling clearly. Fernando seems to ignore it. 

“Does not matter. You can keep me warm instead.” Fernando passes the totally innocent comment as he rolls back over, showing his back to Mark. A million innuendo jokes flood Mark’s mind to prevent the awkwardness he can feel climbing up his back but he knows he won’t deliver them right, give away too much. The looming fear of Fernando’s rejection is too prominent now. Mark just stares up at the ceiling, knowing that he won’t even vaguely get sleep anymore. Christian will be mad. 

“Can you turn out the lamp?” Fernando asks sweetly, still facing away from Mark. Mark looks over at him, noticing the way his left arm is slightly outstretched toward him, before reaching out an arm and plunging them into darkness. There is the sound of material moving as Mark returns to staring at the ceiling. “Thank you.”

Oh shit. Mark can’t see how he ever thought this was going to help. He can feel the heat radiating off Fernando’s body to his right and his fingers twitch in means to touch it, finally feel how soft or rough it is. He always imagined Fernando to have soft skin. Taste like the racetrack. A taste that seemed to match the combined smell of petrol, burnt rubber and oil that none of them could avoid on a race weekend. Mark found the smell addictive. He could never seem to get enough of it. And the thought of it being on Fernando makes him bite his bottom lip. 

If anything, at least tonight will help him understand how he is feeling.

Fernando adjusts his position beside Mark and his too long hair tickles Mark’s cheek. Mark takes a deep breath, trying to memorise the feeling, let it flow through each of his muscles and relax him. He feels the smile pull at his lips and as his face moves Fernando adjusts again and his hair brushes Mark’s lips. The urge to follow the scent that drifts soothingly to his senses makes him close his eyes and lean closer to Fernando, his lips dying to come tantalisingly close to Fernando’s neck. 

“Fernando, your hair is in my face,” Mark whispers softly, letting himself roll towards the Spaniard. He can hear the change in Fernando’s breathing, but is shocked when he moves himself away slightly, tucking his hair under his neck. 

“Sorry.” He mutters. Mark’s sure he sounds a little breathless. Mark sighs sadly as he turns back to the dark ceiling. I didn’t want you to move away. Mark thinks feeling stupider by the second. What the hell is he doing? More to the point, what the hell is he trying to do? The proximity to the main occupant of his thoughts is shutting down his brain, making him work on impulse. He doesn’t like that thought. He feels like he could do anything at any point and blow everything up in his face. Surely he needs to talk to Fernando before he makes any acts towards what he so obviously wants. That’s what he decides to do: sleep now and talk to Fernando about it all in the morning. His hands, however, have another plan. 

He hates his impulses. Purely working on some kind on unexplainable lust. But he doesn’t stop himself. Mark lets his right hand glide to the small of Fernando’s back and touch him delicately. He’s sure Fernando has stopped breathing. Mark just wants to find his wrist. He just wants to try one thing to see if they’re in the same place and then he’ll leave it. He drags his fingers slowly in the darkness down Fernando’s skin, no longer aware of what part of his body he is touching. He curses the soft cotton shirt that prevents him from feeling the texture of the man beside him. He’s sure Fernando’s fingers should be here somewhere. 

Fernando’s eyes are open. He’s glad he’s turned away from Mark because he doesn’t know where this is going anymore. He pulls the pillow he is hugging close to himself tighter with both arms as Mark’s fingers trace the curve of his arse; he tries to think of anything else. His friend Mark. Friend. Who he is helping out. No other motive. He buried them motive ages ago. But this. The delicate movements of Mark’s fingers. Fernando can’t push away those thoughts he though he had diminished. 

“Why are you touching my arse?” Fernando asks bluntly. He doesn’t mean it to be so harsh. He just knows if Mark continued it will change everything. Maybe that is what Mark is after... Or not. 

Mark is glad for the darkness. He can feel the heat burning off his cheeks as he withdraws his hand from Fernando quickly. He feels pathetic. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This isn’t supposed to happen. Mark decides he would prefer a bad night’s sleep rather than an awkward one he can only make worse. He pushes himself out of the bed but a hand around his wrist stops his movements. He can see the silhouette of Fernando from the dim light from the window and knows he has sat up. 

“Do not…” Fernando starts, his voice failing and words giving up on him too. He just keeps hold of Mark. That’s all he can offer. Mark shifts his wrist in Fernando’s grip until their fingers are entwined. And he tries, in the darkness, to see Fernando’s face. He can’t. Mark reaches for the lamp but the grip on his hand tightens. “Please…” Fernando’s quiet plea pulls Mark back under the duvet, the lamp still off. He cups Fernando’s face. 

“What is it?” Mark whispers, sending warm air across Fernando’s face. The Spaniard sighed happily, letting a small hum escape his throat. Mark smiles as he feels fresh heat pouring from his cheeks. 

“Stay.” Fernando smiles as he runs a hand softly across Mark’s face and into his hair. Mark brings their lips together gently, loving the softness Fernando emulates. It’s only brief, but for now that’s all either of them need. Just to understand they’re on the same page together. Fernando wraps his arms around Mark as Mark lies back down, holding Fernando close. He places a gentle kiss on Fernando’s forehead, which Fernando repeats on Mark’s neck. Together, they sigh happily. 

“Goodnight.” Mark smiles. Fernando nuzzles himself closer into Mark, pulling on his embrace until it’s so tight its possible it could suffocate him. But he doesn’t care; that’s exactly how he wants this to be. 

“Goodnight.” Fernando purrs into Mark’s skin. Mark turns his head back so he’s staring at the ceiling with Fernando moulded on his body and a small smile plastered on his face. They follow each other into the bliss of sleep, no longer needed to dream about each other because they were here. 

Right where they were supposed to be.

~End~ 


End file.
